


High Treason

by AlterImpulse



Category: Xenogears
Genre: Battle, Betrayal, Borderline Personality Disorder, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Contrasting Relationships Between People, During Canon, Early in Canon, F/M, Gaslighting, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Lucifer Redemption, M/M, Miang Hawwa Is her own warning, No Smut, One Shot, Plot, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Self-Hatred, Violence, War, denazification, filling in plotholes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-14
Updated: 2019-03-14
Packaged: 2019-11-17 20:39:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18106061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlterImpulse/pseuds/AlterImpulse
Summary: A Guardian Angel chooses to fall to protect those he once hated, and Miang Hawwa is very unhappy with her pet.





	High Treason

**Author's Note:**

> Some plothole filling in the scene where Citan gets into Heimdal to fight against Gebler at Bart’s hideout…
> 
> (Also, all the abuse tags are because Miang and Ramsus have one of the most unhealthy relationships ever - he's obviously borderline, and she's a psychopath and pretty much just playing with his emotions all along to use him. So yeah...)

He had walked the finest of fine lines of espionage for the last six years, ever since his defeat in Shevat, ever since falling in love with both Yui, the commander of Shevat’s forces, and then with the Contact himself, the young man he had been assigned to monitor.

Yet, to this point, his actions had been careful choices, planned for the best path to remain loyal to Cain and Solaris and yet no longer kill on Solaris’ behalf, no longer hate the Lambs. Two loyalties - or was it three, now, he knew it _was_ somewhere within - and yet somehow he had always balanced them just enough to stay loyal to all, to maintain the chessboard as the person in charge of it as he had been trained to do.

Except now, having met Sigurd once more, and with another variable in the mix as a result - how could he be so close once again with someone who _had_ chosen to betray Solaris and fight against it - it felt yet more complicated yet still _manageable_ and… he knew he could even hold that in balance, convince the Emperor that he was simply observing all, that he would betray them _all_ to Solaris, bring Fei and his power under the Empire’s control, and…

Then those _fuckers_ from Gebler _had_ to show up at the pirate lair, and his carefully plotted chessboard had been smashed in that very moment.

He knew why they were there, what they were after, that he should have merely stayed back and observed. Nonetheless, as the lair trembled from heavy fire, as he stood there watching…

“Sigurd… why can you not handle this? Why are you asking me to, you know what it will mean-“

“And _that_ is exactly why I am giving you this choice, Hyuga.” His voice, quiet, firm. “Fei has not chosen to fight for us. Bart can hold them back, but eventually he _will_ run out of fuel. Will you allow us to be killed? To maintain your _neutrality?_ Especially when you can cover for your choice with your connection to Cain? I am certain he would overlook a small betrayal. Think about it.”

“If you care for staying alive, why do _you_ not get in one of the Gears-“

“I cannot. Hyuga… you know what happened to me. When I fled… I pushed myself to my limits. I… cannot handle being in one of these machines again. So either you _help_ us, or you _let us die._ Your choice.”

“Why are you forcing me to make this choice-“

“Because it is one you want to make!” Sigurd glared at him. “If you want to save us, _follow me_.”

That had been how he had found himself doing exactly that, running alongside him through the docks. “I… I will. I cannot...let you die. Let _Fei_ die. You are both… as important to me.”

“I knew you would! If anything, tell the old bastard Cain I took you prisoner, and forced you to fight on our side.” A conspiratorial whisper as they reached the dock. “Get in there. You know what to do, better than I.”

He did, even if he had his own misgivings - it had been five years since he had truly fought in a Gear against others in them, although he had managed to just barely control Weltall for a brief battle against much less well armed opponents while bringing it to Fei’s side. And this one, as he looked over it - it was nothing like his Fenrir, the Solarian Omnigear controlled by his mind. This one was a kludged-together fusion made far more recently, with some neural control but mostly a command user interface with physical controls - something he would need to know in minutes, and yet he knew he _could,_ as he climbed into the cockpit and started up…

It felt so different, so strange and yet so familiar even if he was a bit rusty at fighting in them at that level - and especially in one that seemed so difficult to control, that had that extra step between thought and movement of selection and command… a hotkey panel and steering sticks over his own mind. At least the first Gebler pilot he faced with Heimdal now under his control - the name this Gear had, the Watcher, ironic … was an inexperienced hothead, whose idea of tactical combat consisted of “burn all the fuel trying to knock him out of the cockpit first off, while missing and ignoring the cables.” _A warmup. I needed that._

But then said inexperienced hothead climbed _back in_ to the broken, sparking Gear to attack once more, and he _knew_ then. The only time he had seen this… the Drive experiments with Sigurd...the reason the other man could no longer fight for any sustained amount of time. A nervous system fried from the overdoses, the constant doses, the connection of his body to the broken neural network of his then-Omnigear often well after he should have stopped fighting, the withdrawals, everything… it was a miracle Sigurd was _alive_

Then, Bart was fighting by his side, and they were _holding steady_ despite the Gebler pilots being all on Drive… it helped, he had to admit, that the young rash pirate was as _naturally_ hot blooded and reckless _as_ someone dosed on Drive.

The next sound, Fei’s voice, Weltall landing in the hangar, and that was when he knew the three of them could do it. That they _could_ rout a full-on attack from Gebler…

Yet, as he fought, he _knew._ He knew he had made the decision, the fateful first choice of acting on his own free will to start an actual rebellion within the Empire, the Guardian Angel versus the very forces he was allegedly the height of. The only person placed higher in the Solaris armed forces than Kahran Ramsus, and he was fighting his own men.

Except, somewhere within, he knew they were no longer his own. Not these people who would slaughter non-combatants simply for being Lambs, even if he had once been such a person himself.

_No more. I am not going to allow this. It is not what we told ourselves we were. Sigurd was right, Yui was right. Solaris is… killing innocents. These Lambs… have done nothing to deserve this. Gebler… they could have just come in with words, or even just attacked the guards! Instead eradication? I thought we were a rational people, and we cannot even negotiate with mere pirates who… seem like ourselves? What is the difference between us?_

Then he saw it out of the corner of his cameras - the two children that Vance had killed in a mere blink. The rage then, the same he had felt so long ago in battle, that he wished _he_ had been over there, because he would have had far less mercy on him, than Fei had, to simply disable the Gear and knock him from it. The thought that someone could have done that so easily to someone like his daughter… someone who had no involvement, no harm intended to anyone…

It was _war_ , once more, and this time, in this moment Citan  _knew_ what side he had to take, as the leader of the unit landed between them. Everything he was feeling in that moment focused into his movements, into the flow of battle that had once been so familiar, the words he himself had told Fei, that power must be used to protect - and there was no way that anyone who had not already fled, unlike that coward who could kill children from the safety of his Gear but wet himself and ran in fear once _he_ was at a disadvantage, would be left alive to do so.

The intercom lit to his side. “You’re low on fuel, Doc, we’ll take the rest! Only four more standard left!” Bart’s voice, and Citan realized that he had been so focused on just _killing these bastards_ that he had lost his own strategy, that he had himself just thrown himself into it with no more tactical concern, no more plotting. He drew back to charge, in case the unit had any more surprises like that massive Gear they had just taken down, and let Bart and Fei fight the rest in their own way - though he suspected part of it was that both of the younger men felt that taking prisoners or letting them flee _might_ be a better idea than leaving no survivors and giving no quarter.

And then it was over, with all of one of Gebler’s most elite units all either dead, escaped, or surrendered - and he stared at the scene before him. He _knew_ he would have to explain it to the Emperor, and it seemed so tempting to go with what Sigurd had offered - to claim he had been pressed into fighting for the pirates — and then, he made his second decision. If he had to betray someone, it would _not_ be Sigurd. He began to think through his words as he sat there amidst the carnage  
  
\- _rogue unit under influence of Drive, endangering our primary objective and revealing the existence of Solaris to Lambs, would not listen to orders to withdraw, had to take emergency measures to protect primary objective and the Contact, please do advise Kahr to control his men better and thank you…_

He barely noticed Sigurd and Fei opening the door and lifting him out, how absolutely exhausted his own body and mind both were, both carrying him to the lair infirmary, looking more concerned than he had ever seen both. “I am all right. Do not worry, it is just something I have not done for a while.”

“Most likely,” Sigurd said, and leaned in for a whisper. “Thanks. I was not going to tell the young master, but without both of your assistance, we would have all been killed. You and Fei saved us. And you are not looking well.”

“Fighting in that Gear was altogether much like riding a wild bearcow, despite my first comparing it to a stallion,” he said, realizing then just how much everything had taken him not only to but past the limits of his own body. “I simply need to rest. I am unused to physical interfaces.”

“No, Hyu.” Sigurd looked more concerned at those words. “If you do not rest both your body and your mind _right now,_ you will be in the same condition I am. And if you are to fight for us, to protect _him,_ we can’t have that. You are going to bed and staying there tonight, even if Fei and I must hold you until you calm down and sleep."

* * *

 

“Explain this, _Kahran_ ,” Miang spat, as she tapped the screen. “Nothing about this situation is desirable. Either the Guardian Angel himself is a traitor who has slain fifty of our men and sent the expedition leaders fleeing for their lives, or _you_ appointed an inexperienced and poorly trained squad, with improper orders, who got hopped up on Drive, wrecked everything in sight, killed Lambs we could have used, and alerted Lambs to our presence, violated our rules of engagement, fucked up any chance of acquiring Weltall for now, and forced Ricdeau to intervene. What in the hell are we looking at here, you pathetic piece of trash?”

Nothing about the situation made sense. Ramsus stared at it once more - Renk and Helmholz’s report that Hyuga Ricdeau had acquired a Lamb Gear and proceeded with a merciless onslaught to defend… a mere pirate lair? That made no sense - if there was anyone more loyal to Cain and Solaris than himself, it was him - and what reason would he have for such a betrayal?

Yet, he knew the orders he gave, that he had gotten from Miang herself - retrieve Weltall at any cost, meet up with Ricdeau, bring Weltall and Fei back to Etrenank. None of that included killing anyone beyond necessary and yet… the civilian toll was far higher than a usual Solaris operation.

“Do you even _have_ an answer?” He felt the sting of a slap, Miang’s glove across his face. “Do we have a traitor, or did _you_ fuck this up, because you are trash and unaware of how to command an army?”

“I… must have, made an error somewhere,” Ramsus said, his voice trembling slightly at just how angry she was. He wanted her love, and he _knew_ he had lost it at least for the moment. “I agree with your assessment that Ricdeau would not choose such a pathetic hill to die upon if he even could. He and I both have the power to, ahem, accede the throne directly, as you know. There is no reason why he would bother with such small potatoes when he could just kill His Majesty directly.”

“Then _fuck you,_ ” Miang spat, with another, harder slap. “You either learn how to properly command an army, or I will see that you are returned to the dump as the trash you are. And for now, I am reappointing this squad under Commander Van Houten. Obviously they, like yourself, need a mother’s touch to whip them into shape.”

Ramsus grabbed for the mental stabilizers in his pocket, and swallowed several with a gulp of whiskey from the flask he had known he needed to bring to such a meeting - he didn’t care how many at the moment, he just needed to hold it together, despite his mind’s screaming at him to take out his sword, to at least release some of the hurt he felt with a sharp cut, to… no, he could not do that in front of her. He had to be strong, be the man she wanted him to be…

“Oh, poor thing.” Miang caressed his face. “I should understand what I am dealing with. Consider this a lesson. Do not make such mistakes in the future. And… there are ways you can make it up to me, do you understand?”

“Yes.” Ramsus closed his eyes. “I will see you tonight.”

* * *

 

Citan had awakened before dawn, as usual, a day’s rest allowing him to recover fully from just how far he had pushed himself in that battle, and he found his way to the hatch of the Yggdrasil. His hair, still wet from the shower and down from its braid, blew slightly in the dry wind of the desert, and he sat there on the deck, cup of green tea in hand, and gazed up at the sky above, the sea of stars that surrounded their planet.

A bright flash caught his eye, and for a moment he tensed assuming it was an aircraft, a Gear… but then it blinked across the sky, a falling star in the vast expanse of them.

_Yet I did not fall. I chose to break away. For the first time._

“If only… I had your strength, even in your weakness,” he whispered.

Sigurd held his hand. “Someday, Hyu. I only hope it is not too late.”


End file.
